Stages of My Unemployment

The tears. The constant rejection. The self-pity.

All of the self destructive behavior that goes along with it.

The “Why the hell am I $80,000 in debt to Citibank Student Loans!?”

That’s right, I am looking for a job. I have just moved to New York from Chicago hoping to change my life for the better. Before I moved, I had big dreams of finding that perfect job that was going to make me feel completely fulfilled. This job was going to make me realize that college really did pay off! I am special because I have a degree and now, in New York, everyone wants to hire me!

In the beginning, I was completely confident that I would find a job right away. I saw myself as bright, talented, and experienced and soon to be weeding through piles of job offers. In retrospect, I should have left this cocky attitude in Chicago. In retrospect, I should have reminded myself about the four million unemployed people in this country. In retrospect, I am not bright, talented, or experienced.

Because of my foolish idealism, I did not conserve money my first few weeks in New York. I even enjoyed being unemployed, going as far as making jokes about my “temporary” situation. Unemployment was terrific at first. During the day, I looked for work by perusing all of the usual websites and then when evening approached, rewarded myself for my perseverance by going out to dinner which was of course, followed by drinks.

Week one passed fine enough. I easily convinced myself, “It’s only been a week! I’ll find something!” I still enjoyed being unemployed. New York was a new city and I liked having the time to explore it.

Soon, that week turned into two and then three and then four. The dollar amount in my bank account was dropping dangerously low. I was finding that the emotions I was beginning to go through as a result of my inability to find unemployment were not so far off from what Elisabeth Kubler-Ross calls the “Five Stages of Grief”.

Denial.

My stage of denial was short lived. It occurred mostly in weeks one and two of unemployment. “I have a college degree! I have so much experience!” And let’s not forget this gem, “The person who handles the hiring probably just hasn’t checked her email yet! It’s fine!” It only took one look at my bank account statement on a humid Friday to get me out of my denial stage: $61.38.

Anger.

I would rage. I was angry that no one would hire me and I was furious that I had been tricked into attending an expensive, private, four-year university. “School’s for fools” would be my motto from now on. No one had called me about a perspective job. Not one employer was even slightly interested in just interviewing me. I couldn’t believe it! I had truly convinced myself that I was marketable and the let down was unbearable! I threw things against walls and slammed doors. I yelled at my cat. Who was to blame that I could not find a job? I was thousands of miles away from Chicago in this new city with barely any money and no prospects. Was this a mistake? Should I have stayed in Chicago? I was too angry to really engage in any critical thinking about my recent life changing decisions. In a fit of anger, I grabbed the last ten dollars to my name and stomped to the corner store and bought a six-pack of beer. What else could I do?

Bargaining.

Anger had passed, although I now lived by my new “school’s for fools” motto. I wanted to laugh at kids as I saw them make their way to the local technical high school in my neighborhood. “That’s not going to get you anywhere!” I wanted to scream. But then I thought about it and decided that maybe their schooling might lead them to some success. After all, they were not spending $20,000 a year on theatre school like I had done and continue to do.

I spent my bargaining days trying to make deals with the universe. “Let me find twenty dollars somewhere and I promise to volunteer somewhere, World.”

“If I can get just one interview, I know I can land the job! World, I promise to really yell at people who litter if you let this happen! I won’t just think about yelling at them like I already do, but I’ll really let them have it.”

And I hate to admit this, but my darkest days of bargaining came when I actually said this:

“Now, I know that I have disowned religion and have denied the existence of god for some time, but maybe, just maybe, if I am somehow wrong, Jesus or the Holy Spirit or one of the thousands of saints can hook me up with a sweet job here in New York. What do you think?”

I did not get an answer. And really, what was I thinking when I reached out to this mystical Christian god and his army of angels and saints and magic? I was done bargaining. I was embarrassed by my actions and needed something more worthwhile to focus on.

Depression.

Depression fit me like a glove and it felt great. To wallow in my own self pity, to look at my student loan statements in remorse, to remember my youthful optimism of a few weeks back made me feel like I was really doing something about my unemployment. Here I was, a twenty-five year old New York transplant who’s hopes and dreams had been crushed by countless faceless employers who did not think twice about deleting my resume and charming cover letter from their inboxes. Feel bad for me! I did!

I tried calling my mom to get some pity out of her to aid in my own depression. “But mom, haven’t I worked so hard! Don’t I deserve health insurance! Aren’t I smart and everything an employer would want?”

My mother was not dishing out the pity as I had hoped. “Well, I don’t have any money to give you. You can always move in with me.”

I did not receive the pity I was searching for, but the idea of having to move back to Chicago and in with my parents was enough to really get my depression going. The tears flowed easily. I even cried just looking at job postings thinking, “Why bother! I am just going to be rejected again!”

Finally, even I got sick of my constant despair and whining. It was time to come to terms with my unemployment.

Acceptance.

Here I am, twenty-five years old, in a new city, with only a handful of friends. It is going to be okay. Perhaps it is time to lower my standards and start applying for jobs I would normally have passed over. There are no more excuses. Yes, I spent a lot of money on college and have worked a lot of hours at many different jobs, but that does not mean I am the most qualified candidate for every position I apply for. I can get through this.